


The Emissary

by SemperIntrepida



Series: Elegiad [11]
Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Playthrough, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22233388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SemperIntrepida/pseuds/SemperIntrepida
Summary: In which Phoibe prepares the way for Kassandra's arrival in Korinth, does a little spying on the side, and sees a lot more than she bargained for when Kassandra takes on the Monger.
Relationships: Kassandra & Phoibe (Assassin's Creed)
Series: Elegiad [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1531004
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33





	The Emissary

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot is part of a linked series of stories, and while you don't have to read them all, they do combine into a unified narrative.

The city of Korinth was loud and dirty, and, if Phoibe thought about it, a little bit scary. Back in Athens, there were soldiers everywhere to keep the peace; but this place had no soldiers — just mean-looking thugs all over.

Phoibe sat on a stack of bricks in the agora. Aspasia once told her "a city runs on its market," so she'd come here first to get a feel for the place. The market stalls were full of wares, and both patrons and merchants looked like they had drachmae in their purses. But no one here seemed very happy. Even the musicians played one sad song after another.

Aspasia had sent her here to deliver a message to Anthousa. Anthousa was a hetaera, like Aspasia once was, which meant she was a prostitute who was paid to know a great many things, even if Phoibe didn't know exactly what all those things were. Anthousa's house was in the Porneion. Phoibe had figured out _that_ word meant a place where prostitutes lived. She'd learned a lot of new words while working for Aspasia. Some of them had come with explanations, but the rest Phoibe had to puzzle out for herself. If Kassandra were here, Phoibe could just ask her what it all meant, but Kassandra wasn't here. Not yet.

A buzzy feeling started up in Phoibe's chest, as if she'd swallowed a bee, or some other fluttery kind of bug, and she tugged at the bundle slung over her shoulder that held her clothes and other things she needed for the trip. There was another reason Aspasia had sent her to Korinth: to tell Anthousa that Kassandra would be arriving soon. That meant Phoibe would get to see Kassandra soon too. The buzzy feeling grew, until she couldn't sit still any longer. She jumped to her feet. She had to find Anthousa.

To do that, she'd have to ask for help, and she'd have to ask _carefully_. Adults were already wary enough of strangers, and she didn't want to add annoyance to their suspicion, or she'd never get any answers.

The first part of asking carefully was choosing the right person, so she wandered the market, keeping an eye out for someone who appeared nice but also wasn't in a hurry. The market wasn't even half the size of the one in Athens. There were so many chickens running around the stalls, and piles of pots everywhere. There were even chickens standing on top of pots. Then she saw a young woman selling baskets gently nudge a few hens away from her wares, and Phoibe knew then she'd found the right person.

The second part of asking carefully was being polite. Phoibe presented herself before the young woman and said, "Excuse me, which way is the Porneion?" _Kassandra_ never had to say "excuse me," but that was one of her powers. People who weren't made out of solid muscles, like Phoibe, had to resort to tricks like being polite if they needed something done.

The woman's brows came together. "Aren't you a little young to want to go there?" she asked.

"I'm supposed to deliver a message."

"Really." The woman didn't look convinced, but she lifted her arm and gestured to the east. "It's that way, just past the main road. But be careful, that place is crawling with the Monger's men."

The Monger. Phoibe didn't know who that was, but his name had that same scary-but-you-kinda-wanted-to-laugh-at-it feeling about it that the Cyclops's did. Of course, if anyone ever did laugh at the Monger's name, he'd probably kill them. This place was beginning to feel like Kephallonia, but richer.

"Thank you," she said, before setting out in the direction the woman had pointed. The market stalls ended at the road, which was wide and paved with stone. Then she got her first good look at the Porneion.

It was fancy. Really fancy, like Perikles's house in Athens. The buildings had three, or even four floors stacked on top of each other; and banners hung everywhere, from balconies and windows, pink ones with a Pegasus on them. She crossed the road, careful to stay out of the way of the roaming thugs, and took a seat near the entrance with the most people walking around. If she sat still and quiet, no one would pay her any mind.

The first thing she noticed was that a lot more men were coming and going from the Porneion than women, and most of them were leaving as quickly as they'd arrived.

"I only have eyes for the hetaerae, Stephanos," she overheard one man say to another as they walked past her on their way out. "I won't waste my time if Anthousa's taken them all with her."

Her heart sank. If Anthousa wasn't here, where was she?

She scratched the back of her neck. Anthousa was the most famous of the hetaerae, and the hetaerae were the best prostitutes in the Porneion, so Anthousa probably had the nicest house.

She half-walked, half-skipped around the outside wall of the Porneion. There were thugs standing watch at every entrance, but they ignored her as she passed, just a little girl at play. She studied the houses, until she found the largest one with the most beautiful garden.

She walked up to the entrance and peeked inside. An older woman stood in the foyer, sweeping old flower petals up from the mosaics on the floors.

Phoibe stepped inside and asked, "Excuse me, is this Anthousa's house?"

The woman paused her sweeping. "She's not here, child. And she took the hetaerae with her."

"Why?"

"You aren't from around here, are you?"

Phoibe shook her head no.

"It's the Monger," the woman whispered. "He's taken over the city, and now he wants the hetaerae and their money."

Phoibe started whispering, too. "I'm supposed to deliver her a message. Do you know where she is?"

The woman hesitated, and Phoibe thought she might not answer. But then she said, "Go up the road that leads to the Temple of Aphrodite, and look for the Spring of Peirene along the way. Someone there can help you."

The Temple of Aphrodite was on top of the Akrokorinth, the hill that rose high above the city. Getting there was a long and tiring walk up a steep and rocky road, and just when Phoibe started thinking about looking for a place to stop and rest, she spotted an oasis of green trees and graceful columns tucked into the side of the hill.

Her curiosity getting the best of her, she followed a path to the trees, and discovered they surrounded a spring and a small courtyard. Graceful forms glided within. At first, Phoibe thought they might be forest nymphs, but they turned out to be mortal women.

Phoibe had never seen so many women so beautiful. Their clothes were expensive, as fashionable as what the richest women in Athens wore, and they moved like dancers. Even their voices were pretty.

Surely these were the hetaerae.

One of them noticed Phoibe, and stepped away from the others to greet her. She had dark skin, and her eyes were bright and lively over sculpted cheekbones. "Is there something you're looking for, little one?" she asked.

"I'm here to deliver a message to Anthousa."

"A message from whom?"

"Aspasia."

The woman's eyes widened before she smiled. "A messenger from Aspasia is always welcome among the hetaerae. If you'll wait here, I'll see if Anthousa can see you now."

It wasn't long before the hetaera returned. "Please, come with me," she said.

Phoibe followed her to a set of stairs that seemed to disappear into the hillside. At the bottom was a large chamber, brightly lit with lamps and strewn with flower petals. A dark-haired woman in a red dress awaited them.

"Thank you," she said, dismissing the other hetaera, who bowed her head and left the room. "Damalis tells me you bring a message from Aspasia."

"Only if your name is Anthousa."

The woman laughed. "I am indeed Anthousa. And you are?"

"Phoibe... of Athens."

"Well met, Phoibe of Athens."

Phoibe pulled a small scroll sealed with wax from the pouch that hung at her belt and handed it over.

Anthousa opened the scroll. From the sounds she made as she read it, she was pleased by what she saw. She rolled up the scroll and smiled. "You've brought me hope, young Phoibe, that my Monger problem might soon be solved. Aspasia says you can tell me all about the mercenary they call the Eagle Bearer."

" _Her_ name is Kassandra. No one can beat her in combat, and her eagle came from Zeus himself."

Anthousa raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? She sounds formidable."

"She's the bravest person I know, and she'll help you... if you help her."

"A woman with a head for business, then. Do you know why she's coming here?"

Phoibe shook her head and said, "No." She only knew that Kassandra had spent the winter in Argolis. "She'll be here soon, though. Tomorrow, or the day after."

"Very well, we'll await the arrival of your Kassandra." Anthousa's eyes settled on the bundle slung across Phoibe's shoulder. "Have you a place to stay in Korinth?"

"Not yet."

"Then you shall stay with us. Let it never be said that Anthousa failed to offer hospitality to someone in Aspasia's employ." She swept her arm towards the back of the chamber, where Phoibe could see a slim doorway lit with torches.

"Now come. We'll make sure you feel at home... and then you can tell me all the news from Athens."

.oOo.

Phoibe was sitting in a tree near the city gate when she spotted Kassandra riding up the road from the Port of Kechries, just as Aspasia had predicted Kassandra would. That's what Aspasia did: she made what she called "informed predictions," and she hired people like Phoibe to watch and listen and tell her about the things they saw and heard. That information gave Aspasia the power to see the future.

It was afternoon already, and the sunlight was that shiny yellow of springtime that made everything feel green and new. From her perch in the tree, Phoibe watched Kassandra pull Phobos up to the stable and start haggling with the stablehand over the boarding fee.

What Phoibe wanted to do was to hop out of the tree and run over to them, but Anthousa had asked her not to tell Kassandra where the hetaerae were hiding. They wanted to see Kassandra at work before revealing themselves, and Phoibe only agreed because it meant _she'd_ also get to see Kassandra at work. She never had, not really, because Kassandra always made her stay home whenever it looked like the fighting might get bloody. Well, with the number of thugs in Korinth, there was a good chance Kassandra would end up using her spear on one of them, and that was something Phoibe had waited her whole life to see.

She followed Kassandra from a distance, not wanting to chance being seen, and she could only hope that Ikaros would keep her secret. She glanced at the sky, but saw only blue skies and one lonely, puffy cloud.

Even from far away, Kassandra stood out in a crowd, and Phoibe had an easy time tracking her. Kassandra was tall — taller than most men, even — and seemed even bigger now that she had started wearing armor. Phoibe still wasn't used to seeing her in it.

Kassandra _was_ , like a mountain was. She towered over everything around her, as strong and hard as stone, and anyone who got in her way would merely bounce off her sides. Except she wasn't like that with Phoibe. She was softer, quicker to laugh and smile, more patient, more willing to teach, and only Phoibe got to see this Kassandra. It was Phoibe's secret to keep, because no one else could know Kassandra wasn't always the toughest person in the room.

Especially in places like this, as Kassandra walked alone into the Porneion. The eyes of all the men and Monger thugs were instantly upon her, but all of them kept their distance. Phoibe crouched down behind a high pile of pillows and watched Kassandra approach one of the women lounging in the pavilion.

"I'm looking for Anthousa. Know where I can find her?"

"Anthousa?" The woman stood and moved close to Kassandra, reaching out and trailing her hand from the center of Kassandra's chestplate down to her belt. "I could be anyone for you, misthios. I charge less than the hetaerae, but do I ever know my way around a hay-bed."

Phoibe wrinkled her nose. Part of her wanted to know what the woman meant, and another part of her really _didn't_.

"So her name means something to you," Kassandra said, ignoring the woman's touch.

"Anthousa? They say she and her girls all work as one, but Anthousa's special. She talks — they listen. And the last time she talked, they all went up to the Temple of Aphrodite with her." The woman tugged on Kassandra's belt and slid up against her. "Now, are you _sure_ you don't want a bit of fun? I haven't been with someone... skilled in forever."

Kassandra gently pulled herself from the woman's grasp, saying, "Not interested, sorry," with a smile at her lips that faded as soon as she turned away. Phoibe ducked behind the pillows and curled into a little ball so she wouldn't be seen. She waited several breaths, then peeked out over the edge. Kassandra was already on her way out of the Porneion.

Phoibe let her go. She'd beat Kassandra to the Temple of Aphrodite, because there was no way she was going to walk up that hill again when there were wagons to sneak rides on.

Back at the crossroads, she passed on wagons full of logs, bricks, wool, and flax. The best wagons were ones full of hay, like the one rolling by right now. She darted across the road, and when her hands hit the back of the wagon bed, she pulled up as hard as she could and swung herself over the side, sinking down as the hay swallowed her up. A little itchy, but the ride would be worth it.

There was a crack in the boards, and through it she could see behind the wagon: the dirt road, people trudging up and down the hill, and then, a flash of familiar crimson and gold.

Hidden inside the pile of hay, Phoibe waved and mouthed the words "bye, bye" at Kassandra as the wagon passed, then settled back for the trip up the hill. Even though Phoibe usually wished she was bigger — and she didn't even ask for _all_ of Kassandra's muscles, just most of them — sometimes it was worth being small for all the sneaky things it let her do.

Sometimes.

.oOo.

At the top of the Akrokorinth, Phoibe could see the entire world from the Temple of Aphrodite's altar. Down below was the city, then Athens in the distance, the islands beyond it, and the sea beyond that. The temple was big — not Parthenon big, but the view more than made up for it. There were flowers everywhere, and sculptures of men and women that looked like they'd come to life at any moment, which would be really interesting if it happened because their bodies were entwined in all sorts of embraces.

Sneaking a ride had given her such a head start on Kassandra that she had plenty of time to check out the grounds. She avoided the Monger thugs loitering on the temple's steps, and wandered under the flower-covered canopies along the edge of the grounds where the worshippers rested on rugs and pillows. The air had that temple smell: flowers and incense, this one heavy on the flowers. It made Phoibe want to sneeze.

Then she found some bushes in the corner of the temple courtyard that weren't too sharp and pokey, and she crawled inside them to watch the entrance and the canopies without being seen. She shifted a branch aside to keep it from digging into her thigh, then sat back to wait.

Waiting was what Phoibe did. She'd been waiting ever since she could remember. First she waited for her mater and pater until she realized they weren't ever coming back. Then she waited whenever Kassandra said "not until you're older." Now she waited for things to happen that Aspasia found interesting, and waiting for something to happen meant _someone else_ was in control of making that thing happen.

She wanted to make things happen for herself, like Kassandra and Aspasia did, like _adults_ did, so that instead of hiding in a bush, watching some thugs harass a pair of worshippers, she could be like Kassandra was now, striding up to the thugs and telling them, "No one's paying you anything."

The buzzy feeling in Phoibe's chest was back, and it grew as she watched Kassandra deck one of the thugs with a punch straight to his nose. Then Kassandra turned and faced the next one: a balding man wielding a wooden cudgel. Baldy swung wildly, and Kassandra sidestepped it and caught his arm, twisting it down savagely. Phoibe heard it snap, and winced.

Baldy cried out in pain and dropped the cudgel, only for Kassandra to catch it out of the air and clout the side of his head with it.

Phoibe's hands grasped at the branches in front of her, and she nearly tumbled out of the bushes. She sat back, one hand curling around the hilt of the dagger she wore at her belt. Knowing it was there was a comfort.

Two other thugs had been standing on the temple steps when the fight began, but now they drew their swords and charged at Kassandra. She stood there, tapping the end of the cudgel into her palm as she waited. Was she really going to fight them both with just a wooden stick?

The first thug was short and shrimpy looking, the second a big brute. The brute chopped his sword down, as if trying to split Kassandra like a piece of firewood, and she stepped aside and smashed his wrist with the cudgel before dodging a swing from the shrimpy one's sword. It was like Kassandra knew what the thugs were going to do before they did it. Perhaps she also had the power to make informed predictions, to know that she needed to duck under the brute's big fists before she could kick out his knee and slam the cudgel against his head as he fell, or that the shrimpy one was going to swing his sword _this way_ so if she dodged _that way_ she'd have a clear opening to hit him, _boom_ and _boom_ , sending him off to dreamland along with his friend.

Then Kassandra stood alone, surrounded by unconscious bodies, and it had all happened so quickly that Phoibe only remembered her as a blur. Phoibe blew out the breath she'd been holding in relief, but she also felt a vague disappointment.

The worshippers Kassandra had saved from the thugs ran up to thank her, and they conversed too quietly for Phoibe to hear. Kassandra kept moving her left arm around as she talked, stretching out her shoulder. Maybe she'd injured it in the fight.

Kassandra kept the conversation brief, and whatever she'd learned was enough for her to turn around and start walking back down the hill instead of continuing to the temple. Hopefully she'd be heading for the Spring of Peirene.

If not, Phoibe was totally ready to cheat and tell her about it. She'd kept Anthousa's secret long enough.

.oOo.

Kassandra was already talking to Anthousa by the time Phoibe snuck up behind her and interrupted their conversation with a "Surprise!"

Kassandra turned around, her shoulders jerking back and her eyebrows raising. "Phoibe?" she said. She looked Phoibe over once, then checked again, her eyes full of questions.

"Aspasia sent me," Phoibe explained.

"But _here_? Korinth isn't safe."

"I had to tell Anthousa you were coming. Aspasia taught me a new word: 'emissary.' That's me."

"And now Kassandra and I have met," Anthousa said.

"See? This is easy. And now I can help you, Kassandra."

"There's a killer on the loose in a city with no morals to begin with," Kassandra said, frowning. "You can't just follow me around like in Kephallonia."

Phoibe blinked. This wasn't the reaction she'd expected. "I made it all the way here, didn't I?" A little bit of doubt began wriggling inside her, slippery like a fish.

At first, Kassandra didn't say anything. Then her lips turned up in a tiny smile. "Yes, you always find a way."

Anthousa touched Kassandra's forearm. "We need to move inside, Kassandra. We're not the only ones watching. Come with me, and we'll talk."

"Can I come?" Phoibe asked.

"As long as you're quiet," Kassandra said.

Anthousa led them both down the stairs into the chamber dug into the hillside. Once there, she turned and asked Kassandra, "To what do I owe your visit?"

"Alkibiades told me about you."

That made Anthousa laugh. "Did he? Go on."

"I'm looking for a woman from Sparta — a runaway, long ago. She may have gone by the name of Myrrine."

"Who's that?" Phoibe asked.

Kassandra turned to her, lowering her voice and speaking quickly: "She's my mother."

So Kassandra was searching for her _mother_ here in Korinth. "Is that why you left Kephallonia?"

Kassandra's voice sharpened with irritation. "What did I tell you about talking?"

Phoibe shrugged, but the fish in her belly did a little flip. She hadn't meant to be annoying. She looked at Kassandra again, closely this time, and saw dark smudges under Kassandra's eyes. She looked tired.

"I see," Anthousa said. "There will be time to respond to your question, but that time isn't now."

"That's not the answer I'm looking for," Kassandra said, crossing her arms.

"It's the only one you'll get until I've bargained a proper exchange. I've become quite the businesswoman, after all."

Phoibe wasn't sure if Anthousa could be trusted, and she didn't like her unhelpful response to Kassandra's question either. "You better be telling the truth. Kassandra can get _really_ mad."

Kassandra gave Phoibe a hard look. "Why don't you go play?" she said, in a fake-nice voice that she'd never used on Phoibe before. "Let me and Anthousa talk."

Kassandra wasn't just unhappy to see Phoibe — she didn't even want Phoibe around. Something squeezed Phoibe's heart painfully. "If you say so," she said, letting her defeat show in her slumping shoulders. Then she went and climbed up the steps, and her feet felt like they'd sunk in the sticky clay pits she'd seen all over town.

Something was definitely wrong with Kassandra. Maybe that's why Aspasia had sent her here, because she knew Kassandra needed Phoibe's help.

Phoibe kicked a pebble hard and watched it skitter across the courtyard. It made her feel better. So did thinking about ways she could help Kassandra without her knowing.

There were a few bushes around the courtyard big enough for her to hide in. It was time to get sneaky.

.oOo.

Phoibe had a plan.

It was a good plan, too. Anthousa had asked Kassandra to help one of her girls, Damalis, who had a client who'd gone bad. Timaios was his name, and he was asking too many questions and making threats. Kassandra was supposed to find out what his problem was.

Damalis had introduced Phoibe to Anthousa when she first arrived at the Spring. She was nice, and helping her would also help Kassandra.

Listening in on their conversation told Phoibe that Timaios's house was near the pottery district. And Phoibe already knew where that was. She could get there before Kassandra and do some spying. Check the place out and see what this Timaios was like.

The houses next to the pottery district were the rich part of town. Phoibe dressed the part: a nice embroidered tunic, necklace of polished stones, and tooled leather wraps around both wrists. Her coin pouch and dagger hung from her belt. She felt fancy. She felt like a real emissary.

Finding Timaios's house was as easy as asking the people walking around. It was a small, two story building near a fountain, and Phoibe found a nice hiding spot among some large pots under a window. She could hear Timaios inside, rummaging through his papers and muttering to himself, "If I don't get it tonight I'm a dead man."

More rustling. "Deinomenes better have that fucking deed."

She heard something metal strike against wood. "Pig farm. Always at the pig farm, he says. What does he do with those pigs? Fuck 'em?"

This man _was_ crazy.

She crawled out from behind the pots and ran up the walkway, not too far so she could see when Kassandra was coming. She ducked behind a tree and waited.

"Hey! Kassandra! Over here," she whispered as soon as she spotted her.

Startled, Kassandra's head turned instantly in her direction. Then she walked over and crouched next to Phoibe behind the tree.

"It's about time you showed up."

Kassandra shushed her. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard Damalis talking about her crazy client earlier and I wanted to help."

"What did I tell you about this place being dangerous?" Her voice held that hard edge again.

"I know, that's why I've been careful."

Kassandra sighed. "Well, you're here now. I suppose I could use you."

"See? That was my plan all along."

"I'm going to talk to this guy and see what he has to say."

"I've been here for a while. Spying. And I heard him mumbling to himself."

Kassandra raised an eyebrow.

Phoibe went on. "He's weird. But I can tell you what he said."

"Let's hear it then."

"Let me think..." She dug into her memories, trying to put his odd mutterings together. "He's supposed to meet someone called Deinomenes tonight at a pig farm. And he wants something called a deed from them. He's worried that if he doesn't get it, he's a dead man."

Kassandra put a hand on Phoibe's shoulder and smiled the first real smile Phoibe had seen her give since she'd gotten to Korinth. "That's good information. Thank you, Phoibe the spy."

Phoibe suddenly felt bright and glowy inside. Like someone had lit all the torches in a dark temple at once. "Not bad, huh?"

"Now it's time to act. Listen closely." Kassandra's hand was solid and heavy on Phoibe's shoulder. "You sneak inside and see what you can find in his house while I distract him."

"Quiet like a mouse."

"Good. But if you get caught, run. Right out the door. We'll meet here afterwards. Promise?"

Phoibe nodded. "I promise. Let's go."

They went to the house. Kassandra leaned up against the doorway and crossed her arms, waiting until Timaios noticed her. Phoibe crouched down and snuck around the corner of the house, until she reached an open window.

She heard his voice drift out from it as he spoke to Kassandra. "Do I know you?"

"No, but I know you, Timaios." Kassandra's voice was the one she used to sound dangerous, the one like a far-off thunderstorm, all dark and rumbly.

Phoibe lifted herself over the windowsill, slowly and silently, and dropped down on the other side.

Timaios had moved to the door, facing off with Kassandra. "If Myron sent you, tell him I was going to pay him back this very night!"

"No one sent me. We need to talk."

Phoibe glanced around the room. The furnishings were old and rather shabby. He didn't seem all that rich, actually. There was a writing desk against one wall, a long table in the center of the room, and a doorway in the back that led to other rooms and a set of stairs to the upper floor. She started with the writing desk.

The top of the desk was cluttered with papers, but Phoibe noticed a worn and creased letter poking out from the pile. She swiped it, along with a coin purse. She focused on being quick and silent, but still heard bits of conversation.

"How do you know that! What else do you have on me?" Timaios's voice trembled.

Kassandra ignored his question. "What do you think will happen if I keep you from meeting Deinomenes tonight?"

"What do you want from me?"

Phoibe's eyes swept over the long table. There were two lamps sitting on it, one at each end, along with a set of scales and an iron poker. Something about the iron poker scratched at her thoughts, and she picked it up and stuck it into her belt next to her dagger.

"Either I hurt Damalis, or I'm killed!"

"That's not love, it's weakness," Kassandra said.

Phoibe looked the room over one last time. A glint of metal caught her eye: something long and shiny leaning up against the corner. _Oooh..._ It was a sword, sharp and silver. Her hands were already full, but if she could take that prize...

She slipped the letter down the front of her tunic to keep it safe, then grabbed the sword and climbed up to the windowsill. The sword was heavy and she moved awkwardly. As she swung herself through the opening, she heard the blade of the sword knock against the window's frame, and she froze in panic. _Go!_ something shouted in her mind. She pitched herself over the edge, landing in a heap but somehow keeping the sword from clattering against the ground. Then she clambered to her feet and began running.

No one was shouting behind her, and once she'd reached the meeting spot she didn't see anyone either. She stood there, breathing heavily, her skin buzzing from her scalp down to her toes.

She was still breathing hard when Kassandra arrived a short while later. "You all right?" she asked.

Phoibe nodded.

"Let's see what you found."

Phoibe laid it all out on a nearby table: the iron poker, the coin purse, the sword, and the letter.

Kassandra stiffened. "I've seen that iron poker before."

A sudden realization hit Phoibe. "He didn't have a furnace in his house! So why does he have this?"

"It's not used for fire... It's a weapon. For torture. I saw someone use it in Phokis. Someone huge."

"Huge like the Monger?"

"Just like the Monger."

Phoibe nudged the coin purse with her finger. "He had this, but the rest of his things aren't very nice, though. If he's rich, why have all that junk?"

"He must have just gotten paid. Maybe he spends all his money on Damalis."

"I also found this sword and this letter." Phoibe pointed to one, then the other.

Kassandra seemed surprised by all the items on the table. "You've turned into a good thief."

Phoibe straightened herself up and squared her shoulders. " _Borrowing_ is just one of my many talents," she said in her best Kassandra voice.

Kassandra laughed, her voice rich and smoky, like the incense in the Temple of Athena that was Phoibe's favorite back in Athens. "Well then, Phoibe-of-many-talents, what does the letter say?"

She picked the letter up and waved it at Kassandra. "I haven't forgotten what you taught me," she said, as she unfolded the paper and began to read it. The words were ugly. She frowned. "It's mean. It says he'll get hurt if he keeps doing things wrong."

"I thought as much."

"There's more. It says he needs to bring Damalis to a place here in Korinth. There's directions. What do you think it is?"

"Don't know... But I'll find out." Kassandra took the letter and tucked it inside her belt pouch.

Phoibe bounced on her heels, ready to go. "I'll be right behind you."

"Not this time." Kassandra knelt, facing her. "Go to Damalis and wait for me there."

"Aww, please? I'll be careful!"

"Phoibe, I appreciate all you've done, but I need you to do what I say. This is one of the Monger's hideouts. It'll be dangerous, and I won't risk you."

Timaios's house had been dangerous, too. Phoibe crossed her arms sullenly. "Okay, fine."

"I'll come find you after," Kassandra said, and then she was gone, off to make something happen while Phoibe waited yet again.

Then Phoibe had a sneaky thought, and it got bigger and bigger, pushing her in the direction Kassandra went instead of the way back to Damalis.

She'd helped Kassandra once without her knowing today. She could do it again.

.oOo.

It was full dark when Kassandra finally scaled the wall that surrounded the Monger's house, and climbed up on its roof, and disappeared over the edge of a balcony on the second floor. Phoibe was stuck watching her from a hiding spot in some bushes outside the wall. She couldn't get any closer; guards watched the entrance and patrolled the grounds, and they looked even meaner than the thugs in the other parts of town.

The house was dark. Phoibe listened as hard as she could. At first, there were lots of footsteps pacing all around. But as time passed, Phoibe noticed that what had sounded like many footsteps began to dwindle, until there were only two distinct sets, and then one, and then none, and then the guard standing at the entrance abruptly turned around and left his post.

He never came back.

Then she heard pottery breaking, a sharp sound that cut through the darkness, and she took a chance, creeping out of the bushes to peek around the wall. The house's small courtyard was still and silent. Someone had lit a torch, and a pool of light spilled out from within the house. She slipped through the entrance and darted across the open, heading for the bushes beside the lit doorway, but before she could crawl into them, a hand grabbed her by the arm and pulled her off her feet.

"Gotcha!" said a man's voice.

Heart pounding, breath gasping, she had to decide: draw her dagger or don't. Her right arm hurt from the man's grip around it as he dragged her towards the torchlight. _Who had lit the torch?_ She'd have to use her weak hand to stab him, and she'd only have one chance to do it. _Who'd lit the torch?_ Gods, let it be Kassandra.

He tossed her through the doorway. "All right you little shit, who sent you?"

She landed hard on the floor and slid to a stop at a pair of feet. Greaves that didn't match, fabric in familiar crimson and grey. Kassandra. Phoibe scrambled around behind her, and in that instant she understood what miracles really were.

Kassandra looked down, her face unreadable. "Run. Now!" She was already reaching for her spear.

Phoibe launched herself at the doorway, dodging away from the man's lunging grasp, and then she was running, through the courtyard, onto the road, running until her chest burned fire, knowing that she'd handed Kassandra a mess of trouble to clean up behind her.

.oOo.

Phoibe expected Kassandra to yell. To be angry. It was almost worse that she didn't do either of those things.

They'd given Damalis the letter they'd taken from her client's house, and now it was just the two of them standing next to the Spring of Peirene.

She kicked her sandal against a crack in the stones. If she looked up, she'd see Kassandra wearing the same unreadable face she'd worn back at the house.

"Kassandra, I'm sorry."

Kassandra sat down heavily on the edge of the spring's basin, saying nothing. Her armor was dotted with dark spots, and a smudge remained on the back of her hand. Phoibe knew those dark spots in the torchlight would be red in the daylight.

She chewed at her lip. She didn't know what else to do in the silence.

It was a long time before Kassandra finally said, "So am I."

Phoibe stood there miserably.

"I know you want to help me—"

She nodded.

"—but I need to be able to trust you, and now I'm not so sure I can."

Tears tried to come out of Phoibe's eyes, but she squeezed her eyes tight until they went away.

Kassandra reached for her hand and gently pulled her closer. "Now you know how quickly things can go bad, even when you think you've got them under control."

"I didn't even see him."

" _I_ didn't either. Got all the other guards but him." Kassandra lifted Phoibe's chin with her fingers. "You're turning into a good spy and an even better thief. I can use that kind of help, but only if I can trust that you'll do what I tell you to — even if you don't agree."

"I will."

She brushed a stray bit of hair out of Phoibe's eyes. "I'm glad you're all right." Then she stood up, and said, "Good night, Phoibe," before walking off into the dark, leaving Phoibe alone with thoughts as many and scattered as the stars above.

.oOo.

It was easy for Phoibe to keep herself busy. The hetaerae had enough errands for her that after a couple of days of work, she'd collected a nice little pile of coin. She wasn't avoiding Kassandra, not exactly. She just didn't want to get in the way of whatever business Kassandra was plotting with Anthousa. Something about burning things in a warehouse, and making the Monger mad.

She'd just come back from a sunrise delivery to the Temple of Apollo when Anthousa herself approached her with a job. "Deliver these to the theatre," she said, handing Phoibe a bundle of scrolls. "We'll be hosting a show later today."

Phoibe peeked at one of the scrolls as soon as she could. It was a playbill. _The Monger has been a pox on Korinth for too long_ , she read. _The Eagle Bearer will bring him to justice, here when Helios reaches his zenith..._

Kassandra wasn't just going to poke the monster, she was going to punch him in the nose. And then kill him.

The rest of the morning passed by so slowly Phoibe was sure the Monger had plotted with Helios to delay his doom. She was excited and nervous at the same time, and waiting just made her more excited and more nervous.

Phoibe still hadn't seen the Monger, but everyone she'd talked to used the same word to describe him: huge. Huge made Phoibe think of a man the size of a bull. Like the Minotaur. Could Kassandra kill a man like that? Thinking about it made Phoibe chew the side of her fingernail. Kassandra had killed the Cyclops, but no one had called him huge, and no one had said he was much of a fighter either. All these thoughts combined into one large, nervous thought.

She wished she knew where Kassandra was.

Word of the "show" spread fast after she'd delivered the scrolls. By the time the sun blazed high overhead, she came back to a theatre nearly full of people. She squeezed into a spot a few rows from the front, and watched the crowd wait restlessly for something to happen. Rich and poor alike had come to see the Monger die.

A murmur passed through the crowd; Kassandra had arrived, and Phoibe watched her stroll onto the stage with Anthousa. Kassandra didn't look nervous at all. She was wearing her _I-have-a-plan_ face, which was one of Phoibe's favorites. It made her look like one of the statues of heroes that lined the way to the Parthenon.

" _That's_ the Eagle Bearer?" she heard someone say behind her. "She's going to get fucking crushed by the Monger."

Phoibe pressed her lips together tightly to keep from telling them how wrong they were. Kassandra would show them soon enough.

Another murmur swept across the crowd, louder this time. The Monger was here. Phoibe craned her neck to get a look at him. He _was_ a lot bigger than Kassandra, but he was no Minotaur. She blew out a breath in relief.

He stomped into the theatre, flanked by two other warriors wearing shiny armor. He'd brought help? That felt like cheating to Phoibe, but Kassandra didn't seem to care.

The Monger wore no armor, probably so everyone could see all of his massive muscles. He didn't seem to have a neck. He raised a large mace, shaking it at Anthousa and the crowd. "You wanted a fucking show? I'll bring you a show!"

Kassandra stepped forward, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword. "I wanted you to see the face of every person you've wronged."

He pointed his mace at her. "I'll cover their faces with that precious blood of yours. Just like I shoulda done with Myrrine."

 _That_ made Kassandra's eyes go wide, then narrow. "You... knew my mother?"

"I enjoyed squeezing my hand around her throat, but I'm gonna enjoy killing you even more. You're gonna die _slow_ , bitch, and then I'm going to pay your mother back by bringing her your fucking head."

"Not if I bring her yours first." Her voice made Phoibe shiver.

Kassandra drew her sword and spear, and things happened all at once: Anthousa fled the stage, the Monger's guards raised their shields and charged at Kassandra, and the Monger pounded his chest and followed them into the fight.

The man to Kassandra's right rushed her, and she somehow tore his shield out of his hands, then threw it at the man to her left. He went sprawling while she turned back to face the first man and the Monger, then backpedaled to keep them both in front of her. She circled around, staying away from the big mace, and she blocked a swipe from the guard's sword before sticking him low in the belly with her spear. She kicked him free from it, hard, and he landed at the crowd's feet in front of where Phoibe was sitting, crying out in pain.

Phoibe had never heard anything like it: a tight, high-pitched wail that she felt behind her eyeballs and inside her teeth.

A shield flew into the crowd, turning its murmur into a gasp. People began to shout encouraging words. Kassandra was winning them over.

She'd worked herself around so she faced the remaining guard and the Monger at an angle. The Monger's mace swung down, but Kassandra was no longer there, and the crash of heavy iron against marble sent the sound of shattering stone echoing around the theater.

The guard swung his sword, and Kassandra used her spear to deflect it and create an opening to chop her own sword down into his neck, and the crowd noise rose like an ocean wave as everyone seemed to realize at the same time that Kassandra might actually be able to pull this off.

Only the Monger was left. He swung his mace. Again, Kassandra was one move ahead, and it missed. She let him chase her around the stage, and then she did something strange: she smiled.

He screamed curses at her. His mace missed again, crushing more stone, and Phoibe could hear him breathing heavily all the way from her seat. Kassandra's spear flashed out and opened up a cut on his chest. He swung. Missed. And she cut him again, and again.

Kassandra was playing with him, Phoibe realized, the way a lynx would play with a rat instead of killing it. The white marble stage turned pink, then darker shades of red, as she sliced him up with her spear. This was more blood than Phoibe had ever seen at once, and her stomach felt like it had been filled with the shards of marble left under the Monger's mace.

Once the Monger's entire upper half was covered in blood, Kassandra kicked his leg out from under him. He dropped to his knees with a bellow and swung wildly — a weak attempt she dodged easily. Then she raised her sword and chopped his hand off at the wrist, sending the mace crashing to the ground. But her sword never stopped, and she looped it back around and cut his other hand off in one smooth motion.

As the Monger stared at what used to be his hands, Phoibe's stomach twisted with a sharp jolt of pain that made her feel sick. Kassandra stuck the tip of her sword under his chin and forced him to look at her. "That was for touching my mother," she said.

All of the hetaerae were here now, and they gathered in a circle around Kassandra and the Monger. Each one held a dagger in her hands. Anthousa swept around the stage, holding her arms open wide. "People of Korinth!" she said. "Behold the weasel that steals your bread! The scourge that spoils your crops! Here is the justice you seek."

Kassandra stepped back, inviting them to the Monger with a sweep of her sword. "He's all yours," she said. Then she walked off the stage as the hetaerae closed in around him.

Phoibe couldn't watch any longer. She pushed her way along the row of seats as the crowd jumped to its feet, its roar growing and growing, and when she reached the steps at the row's end, she leapt off the side of the amphitheatre instead of running all the way down.

Though the drop wasn't far, she rolled to soften her landing anyway. But when she came to a stop, she found that she'd ended up right at Kassandra's feet.

Greaves that didn't match, covered in bloody streaks. Crimson and grey fabric, spattered with even more red. Kassandra, with a blade still in each hand, blood dripping from them onto the stone, _spat_ , _spat_ , _spat_ , the sound of it loud in Phoibe's ears.

Phoibe looked up into eyes filled with rage. The word _volcanic_ shot through her thoughts. If she stared into the crater of the Foundry of Hephaistos it would be like staring into Kassandra's eyes: endless fires raging in the darkness.

Kassandra towered over her, and those eyes didn't change, didn't seem to _know_ her at all. Phoibe froze and felt her face go numb, then she scrambled away from Kassandra in panic, her sandals scraping against the stone walkway.

Then Kassandra blinked and said uncertainly, "Phoibe?"

Phoibe finally got her feet back under her, and then she did something she never thought she would ever do: she ran away from Kassandra.

.oOo.

The chambers where the hetaerae had hidden themselves were cold, despite all the rugs and blankets they'd brought in with them. Phoibe squeezed her arms against her knees and pulled the blanket around her tighter. She tried to imagine sunlight and summer winds instead of blood and stone.

But she'd run away from Kassandra, and all the thoughts inside her wanted to bounce around the question _why_.

One of the hetaerae poked her head inside the room. "Phoibe?" she said. "There's someone waiting for you at the Spring."

There was only one person it could be.

Kassandra sat on a bench at the edge of the courtyard, her hair and armor damp, her blades clean. She said nothing as Phoibe sat down beside her, and she stared blankly at the stones in front of her feet. Her skin was pale, as if she'd washed her own blood out when scrubbing off the Monger's. It made Phoibe think of the sad spirits in the Underworld who wandered the shores of the Styx, lost and alone.

She wondered if the shores of the Styx were this quiet.

This was a big kind of silence, the kind that grew deeper and deeper, and suddenly Phoibe felt like she'd been pulled under water and didn't know which way was up or down.

So she said, "You look so much different in armor," just to say something, and it was even mostly true.

Kassandra smiled a strained smile. "And you look different in Athenian finery."

She glanced down at herself and supposed she did look different enough. But she was still the same person despite the change of clothes. That meant Kassandra was still the same person inside her armor. But _something_ had changed since Phoibe had last seen Kassandra in Athens.

"What happened in Argolis?" she asked.

The corners of Kassandra's eyes tightened. She didn't answer immediately, instead taking a few moments before saying, "You're old enough to know the truth about me."

Phoibe didn't think that answered her question at all.

"What you saw at the theater wasn't what you expected, was it?"

"No." Kassandra's weird answers were making Phoibe's insides feel murky. "I didn't know blood could be that gross."

Kassandra rested her forearms on her knees and studied her hands. "Now you know what I do, Phoibe. What I am."

It wasn't news to Phoibe that Kassandra killed people. Kassandra had to be talking about something else. Phoibe's murky feelings got even murkier. "The Monger was evil. He _tortured_ people," she said, but then a memory from the depths poured into her mind and filled it with an image of a lynx playing with a rat. "Did you... like... killing him?"

Kassandra went still, not even breathing. Then she said, "I should have killed him quick. But I got angry."

" _He's_ the one who opened his big mouth. No one's gonna blame you for getting ragey."

Kassandra looked like she was going to say something, but turned to face Phoibe instead. "I'm sorry I scared you. Afterwards." The color was coming back to her skin.

"That wasn't you. Not really," Phoibe said. And just to make sure, Phoibe looked into her eyes: warm bronze, flecked with gold. Knowing and familiar.

Phoibe slid her arms around Kassandra and rested her cheek against Kassandra's armor. The metal under her skin was cold at first, but warmed the longer she stayed there. Kassandra's arm circled around her back, enfolding her in a feeling of safety she'd missed so much it made the corners of her eyes fill with stinging wetness. Then she closed her eyes against her tears, and imagined the heartbeat and the rise and fall of Kassandra's breath that she knew was there, but just couldn't feel.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what possessed me to write this from Phoibe's POV. Writing child protagonists is ridiculously difficult, and I'm not entirely confident I pulled it off here. Still, this was an interesting exercise that got me thinking a lot about Phoibe as a character, and (yet again) lamenting missed opportunities for her in the canon narrative.


End file.
